


forever (forever)

by lemonyellowlogic



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Broken Bones, Bruises, Crying, DMA/Deadliest Man Alive is a separate person from Owen Carvour, Disabled Character, Love, M/M, Owen and DMA are not the same person, Pain, Paralyzation, Spies, Spies & Secret Agents, Spy - Freeform, Torture, Wounds, chimera, curt is very much trrified, curt mega is a good person, hammers, how have i not included that yet, owen carvour deserved better, owen is scared but doesn't like to show it, scared curt, soft curt, spy gear, the boys need food but they are in a warehouse so they are kinda stuck, they're both alive don't worry, they're in love, this is getting more intense now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 14:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21076394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonyellowlogic/pseuds/lemonyellowlogic
Summary: what would've happened if curt had stayed with owen in the warehouse?





	1. falling

“Oh, Curt Mega, you’re going to be the death of me!” Owen yelled behind him as he ran up the stairs, Curt right behind him with a smirk on his lips as the building began to shake again. Curt opened his mouth to give him a response, but before he could, Owen had already turned to look at him, not knowing where he was about to step.

“Owen, look out!” Curt tried to yell, but it was too late. Owen’s foot stepped on the discarded banana peel, and like a cartoon, he slipped hard and fell straight backward.

Falling, Owen’s arms swung up, grasping at the railing, grabbing at anything to save him. He only just brushed Curt’s hand with his own when he was too far. Curt couldn’t tear his eyes away from Owen’s body, his deep brown eyes wide and with fear swimming in them, an emotion Curt had never even thought to associate with the man.

Curt wanted to look away, but he couldn’t He watched as Owen’s thin body smashed against the cold concrete below with a loud snap. Tears welled up in Curt’s eyes as a scream broke free from his throat. He stared at Owen’s twitching frame and threw himself away from it, starting to run up the rest of the stairs, but he froze as the building began to shake even more violently.

No. Curt couldn’t leave him. Curt refused to. Curt would rather die with Owen in his arms then return to the world, completing his mission but completely alone. Curt shook himself, his feet pounding on the metal steps as he ran down the tall flight of stairs to Owen. His feet hit the shaking ground and he knelt beside Owen, cradling his head in his hands, tears spilling onto Owen’s face as Curt began to cry.

Owen’s eyes fluttered open, and Curt’s name left his lips in a week exhale. Curt smiled sadly, pressing his lips to Owen’s forehead as he brushed Owen’s long hair out of his eyes. The walls began to shake worse than ever before, and Curt sat down cross-legged, one hand holding Owen’s head, with his other holding his hand. He kissed Owen one last time as the building shook once more, and he closed his eyes and smiled as the building came down, crashing onto them.


	2. morning

Owen’s eyes snapped open, taking in a huge breath of air as the world came into vision. Everything hurt. Everything hurt badly. He could barely feel anything but he did know that he felt pain. He took in a shaky breath and made to wipe the dust off his eyes, but he felt something heavy in his hand. He looked down and saw a hand clutched in his. 

Owen moved his neck slightly and yelped in pain, but he was able to see what lay beside him: Curt. Suddenly, all of the events from...god how long ago was it? The warehouse was filled with sunlight shining from the giant holes in the ceiling and walls, so it had at least been a few hours. 

He looked back to Curt and tried to say his name, but his throat wouldn’t allow any words to pass through. He raised his other arm, groaning in pain, and lay it on Curt’s face, letting out a sigh when he felt warmth coming off of him. He stroked his love’s face, praying that no one was still at the warehouse, but by a guess, he predicted no one was there, since if there was, the two of them would've surely been found out by then. Owen tried to roll over, and his back felt like he was being stabbed, but he managed it. At this same moment, he made a critical discovery: from below his waist, he felt nothing. He couldn’t feel anything, not even the excruciating pain that was settled in every other part of him. Owen’s eyes widened, and he tried to look down, but once again, he became stricken with pain. Tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes, more from anger than misery. Why was he so stupid?

He stroked Curt’s cheek with his thumb as his tears began to fall. Owen managed to turn to the side without too much pain and leaned closer to Curt. At least Curt was alive, at least he wasn’t alone.

He lay buried into Curt’s sides for what felt like hours before Curt groaned loudly, his eyes shooting open and meeting Owen’s. Curt’s eyes widened then softened as he looked at Owen, wrapping the man in his arm and holding him close to him, his other being pinned underneath him. Owen moaned in pain and Curt looked at him in fear, but Owen met his eyes and smiled his beautiful smile, and Curt began to cry, burying his face in the man's hair.

He whispered to himself, “We’re okay. We’re going to be okay.”

Owen only hoped that he’d be right.


	3. looking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've noticed that while this fandom is very small, everyone who is in it is very kind and very welcoming, so thank you for a great entrance into it!
> 
> also, i do not have a schedule for this fic and i'm just posting the chapters as i write them, so if i dont update for a while, that is just on me and my dumbass brain who likes to take her goddamn time writing.

Curt kissed Owen’s forehead one more time before he sat up, groaning in pain as he clutched at his arm, which had been trapped under rubble while he was asleep. It hurt like the devil, but he couldn't focus on himself right then. He had to think about Owen. He looked back down to his partner who lay staring at the ceiling, his face twisted in pain.

“Owen, are you alright?”

Owen’s eyes met his in a glare, “What do you think, love? I can’t move without feeling like I’m being bloody stabbed!”

“Well, you did fall..quite a height.”

Owen tried to push himself up and screamed in pain, his arms giving out on him. Curt immediately was holding him, hugging him close as Owen cried angry tears into his dirty, bloody shirt. Blood.

Curt remembered the fact that there was blood coming from Owen when the ceiling collapsed, but Owen didn’t seem to be...dying.

“Owen?”

Owen hissed, “What?”

“Can you lay on your stomach, please? I need to look at your back.”

Owen barked out a harsh laugh, “Have fucking fun, I can’t even feel anything below it so I hope you notice something.”

Curt reeled back, eyes wide, “You...can’t feel anything? Not at all?”

“No.” Owen’s voice was sharp as steel, a quick and final response. Curt knew that Owen was terrified, but he also knew Owen wouldn’t ever admit it.

Curt lay Owen on his front, wincing as Owen cried out but pushed through, pushing his jacket off his arms and took off his brown shirt. He immediately saw the giant problem staring back at him.

Owen’s face and front were almost wound free, but his back was a completely different horror story. All over Owen’s back were giant green and purple bruises that framed his many scars gained over years in the spy business, but In the small of Owen’s back, was the worst one. Giant with the edges bloody but the inside scabbed, was where the feeling stopped. It wasn’t fatal, but it was not an easy or forgetful injury.

“Shit,” Curt whispered and Owen groaned, asking, “Is it that horrible, love?”

Curt nodded but realizing Owen couldn’t see him, replied, “Yes,” in a shaking voice. Curt asked to touch it and Owen sighed, nodding into where his face was buried into his dirty as hell jacket he was now using as a pillow.

Curt nodded to himself, biting the inside of his lip and whispering out an apology before softly pressing his fingers to th wound and receiving a strangled scream in response. He jumped back, removing his fingers and holding them to his chest as his breathing became as heavy as Owen’s.

Owen took in a deep breath before uttering a soft, “Fuck.”

Curt choked out a laugh and placed his hand on the brunette’s legs, asking quietly if he could feel him at all. The air became stiff and cold, frozen, as Owen once again answered with a sharp no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to comment!


	4. footsteps

The air was still stagnant as Curt sighed, sitting down once again. Owen still lay on his stomach close to him, but Curt was just trying to block everything out. Owen couldn’t be paralyzed. If he was paralyzed, that means no more being a spy, no more going on missions, no longer being able to see each other without the worry of other people learning that they’re anything more than friends.

Curt knew Owen was scared and that he should stay strong for him, but he couldn’t help feeling terrified over the thought of losing Owen. He pressed his lips to the top of Owen’s head, and pulled the man into his arms, holding his lean body close to him.

Curt wanted to ask the man more, but he could feel from just holding him that he had blocked the thought out, that he had put up a wall. They'd discuss it later when they were safe. Owen looked into Curt’s eyes, and with a scary smile, pressed his lips to the American’s. Curt shook as he kissed back, his good arm holding close to Owen as his damaged one was laid tenderly on his back.

Curt couldn’t handle the pain anymore and so he forced himself to let Owen go and cradled his left arm. Owen lay back into Curt’s lap and reached up, moaning in pain as his strength failed him but a determined look stuck in his eyes.

“Curt?”

Curt blocked out Owen’s concerned tone and gave the spy a shaky grin, “I’m fine, Carvour.”

“Curt.”

Cur winced and looked the man back in his eyes, and released his arm, letting it fall limply to his side. He could still move it, but the more he did, the worse it hurt.

Owen’s face stayed the same but the air became thicker, “Does it hurt?”

“Not...too horribly.”

“Curt.”

“Fine, it hurts like Hell, but it doesn’t matter right now. What matters is getting you out of there safely, we can worry about my arm later.”

Owen glared at Curt, opening his mouth to give a retort but being cut off by a door opening a bit away from them. The two of them froze, but Curt shook it off quickly, gathering the injured man in his arms and dragging the two of them to a more closed off space to hide. Curt bit his lip so hard that it began to bleed as to ignore the pain in his probably broken arm, but he didn't care, it didn’t matter.

A nasally Russian voice rang out in the open, broken warehouse, “Where are they? Ivanov told me he had trapped the spies in here.“

  
Another voice responded, less nasally than the first but stern, “Ivanov is a liar, and who cares about the spies? They’ll be dead before they can leave. We’ll be watching this place, and either their bodies are already rotting underneath the destruction they’ve caused, or they’ll be rotting in a cell after we find them. Come, Sobakin.”

Their echoing footsteps trailed away from them, but the two still held their breaths as the footsteps continued. Only after they could not hear anything was when they let out their breaths. They looked at each other and sighed. Another mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an idea for where I want this to go, and my god, it is not happy but it won't end sad, I can tell you that.
> 
> edit: i fully forgot that curt was captured and was being tortured by russians during the first scene, so i just had to go back and change some last names cause i am a whole dumbass


	5. barb

The two spies did not move from their little hidden corner for hours on end, not until they had not heard any footprints in over an hour. Curt shakily sat up, hissing in pain as he pushed himself up on his arms. He stood, his back popping. He scanned the room and found absolutely no one, the warehouse seemingly abandoned. 

Curt had the feeling, however, that the Russians were still watching the warehouse, so he stayed quiet, only saying to Owen that the coast was clear before quieting down again. He kneeled back down and looked at Owen, who had pushed himself into a sitting position but his expression screamed that it wasn’t a very good idea. 

“Owen, “ Curt murmured, sitting down.

“Shut up,” Owen spat, staring straight in front of him.

“We’ll get out of this, we always do.”

Oen hummed, his expression unchanging.

“Stop it with your 'inspiration', love," Owen made air quotes around 'inspiration', "It gets stale quite quickly.”

Curt smiled, leaning into the wall next to Owen and kissing his forehead. Owen tutted his tongue but let it happen. They sat in silence again, both of them trying to figure out an escape plan on their own. Interrupting them, Curt’s wrist beeped, and the two men remembered that Curt still had his communicator on him. Curt grinned, but it fell as he realized the screen was shattered, and the power was just about dead. They'd be able to call someone, but only one person and not for long.

They looked at each other, and Owen pursed his lips, “Contact Barb, she’d respond.”

Curt rolled his eyes, “Contact Barb, who else would I call?”

Owen smirked and looked pointedly towards the watch. Curt signed, pinching the side and immediately calling Barb.

It rang quietly for a few seconds before exploding on, Barb's high-pitched frantic voice squeaking through the tiny speaker.

“Curt? Oh, Curt, is this you?”

“Hey, Barb, “ Curt said, tired.

Barb sobbed, “Oh, god, Curt, we thought you were dead. Never do that again, you idiot. Where are you, where’s Carvour?”

Owen cleared his throat before replying, “Hello, Barb, we’re both here.”

Hearing Barb’s relief through the phone as she thanked God, Curt kissed Owen’s forehead again, but this time he swatted the American away, glaring as Curt grinned.

“-e all thought you both were gone, and even Cynt- was worried! So, Curt wh-re you?”

Curt pursed his lips and his eyebrows furrowed, “Shit. Barb, you’re cutting out, my watch only has a bit of battery left, we’re still at the warehouse but with no supplies. Get a team here, there are still Soviets watching the place and Owen’s badly injured.”

Owen pursed his lips, glaring at his partner, “We’re both injured.”

Barb voiced was lined in panic, “Okay, o-ay, okay! I’ll go tell Cyn-ia, try to keep as -uch battery as pos-ble!”

“It’s almost dead, Barb, I don’t know how long this’ll la-”

The watch died, Barb’s worried humming cutting off suddenly. Owen sighed, leaning into Curt’s body and digging his head into Curt's neck. Curt smiled, but he gnawed at his lip after it fell as a worry he hadn't had during a mission in years settled in his gut, but they were in a really shitty situation, weren’t they?

Pushing that thought down, Curt removed his jacket and lay it over both of their front’s. Owen smirked, "I already have a jacket, love."

"Hush, let me be sweet." Owen hummed in response.

Minutes later, Owen’s stomach growled loudly, and Curt could feel hunger crawling into his throat. God, he hoped the team would arrive soon, but at the same time, the two men would have to separate before then, so Curt wanted them to stay away in a small, selfish part of his brain.

Owen’s health was more important though, and since he wanted Owen to be okay more than anything, Curt happily preferred the team coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: this is the longest chapter yet, by around a hundred words but still! i wrote it in thirty minutes but i'm happy with it. randomly a few days ago i was struck with a bunch of angst that would fit into this, so be ready for that in future chapters!
> 
> feel free to comment!


	6. quiet

Abut an hour later, Owen still lay on Curt’s lap, eyes closed as if he was asleep but his mind was racing. Curt could tell, they’d been together for over a year at that point, but Curt could only imagine what Owen was worried about, whether was being caught or something completely different.

Curt’s anxiety rose higher and higher the longer they sat, but a smile was brought to his face as he studied Owen’s. He was lucky to have him here. Curt wasn’t very religious, but he thanked every god in the world for giving him Owen. Owen Carvour was a dick, a hothead, snarky asshole, but Curt loved him all the same. Curt wasn’t perfect either, and that's what he found most perfect about Owen, that he didn’t care about little things, only who you really were.

Curt chuckled to himself as he remembered with just how much intensity Owen hated him when they were on their first mission together. Owen saw him as a headstrong idiot who rushed into situations and didn’t give a fuck, which is somewhat true. 

However, Curt, with his heart loving too easily, automatically fell for Owen, but Owen couldn’t stand being in the same room as him. However, Curt managed through constantly annoying and being near him to show Owen that he did care about the mission and that he did care about him. Curt worked on being better for him, and now Owen loved him too.

His thoughts were cut short by a door squeaking open. Curt tensed, jostling Owen as he pressed himself tight against the corner they lay in. Owen blinked back to reality, groaning in pain as he registered his body being moved, muttering, “What the fuck was that?”

Curt hushed him sharply.

Owen, still out of it, raised an eyebrow, "What?"

With his face turned to stone, Curt spit quietly, “Shut up.”

Owen was taken aback, his eyebrows narrowing and his head leaning back, “What do you mean sh-”

Curt slapped his hand over the British man’s mouth, wh continued to grumble. Curt held his eyes shut, whispering as quietly as possible, “Someone’s here.”

Owen froze, mumbling, "Shit." before he shut up immediately.

The footsteps of the person were quiet, but as they drew closer, they felt earthshaking loud. Suddenly, they stopped, and the last thing Curt heard before everything went dark was a deep voice with a thick English accent, “‘Found you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so uhhhhh...
> 
> it's been a couple months, hasn't it? i've got no excuses, i've just been struggling with this chapter. i knew where i wanted to go after this scene, i just had no idea how to write THIS scene. but, i hope it was adequate!
> 
> next chapter, which will be out hopefully sooner than this one was, will be where dark shit begins to happen.


	7. awake

The first thing Curt felt when he woke up was the cold metal table he lay on, the second was the throbbing pain in his left arm. His eyes blinked awake, and he was surrounded by deep grey walls, one with a large mirror affixed to it, with bright white lights shining down on him. He groaned, trying to wipe his sweating face with his good hand realizing he couldn’t. He quickly realized that his body was strapped down to the table, locking him there. 

“Fuck,” he murmured under his breath, unable to find the buckle to the leather straps. The door to the room creaked open, and Curt stared down at it, unmoving and his face like stone. A man walked in, tall and thin, his face pinched and a small smirk on his lips.

“Well, Curt Mega, it is great to finally meet you.” He spoke with the same thick English accent of the man from the warehouse, and Curt internally groaned.

Curt’s face twisted into an obviously fake smile, “Likewise, asshole.”

The man ignored him, continuing, “We’ve been searching for your body for quite a bit, and was starting to worry you got away. But luckily, we got you _and_ the broken one.”

Curt sneered, “What did you do with him?”

“Oh, he’ll be fine. He’s watching right now, actually,” He gestured to the mirror. He looked back to Curt, a small grin forming on his lips, “Though, I think you should be more worried for yourself, Agent.”

He stalked down behind Curt, one of his hands pressing down on the agent’s broken arm as he grabbed a box behind him. He walked back to a tall wooden stool next to the metal table, sitting down as his eyes seemed to hover over Curt.

He picked up a hammer, rolling it in his hand before looking back to Curt, grinning, “Don’t worry, Agent. This won’t hurt too badly.”

He slammed it down on Curt’s broken arm, and Curt let out an involuntary strangled scream.

“Now, Mega,” The man grabbed Curt’s face in one hand, making him look towards him, “Have you ever heard of Chimera?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, the man is the deadliest man alive. in this universe, him and owen are different people.
> 
> feel free to give your thoughts in the comments!


End file.
